your body is a weapon → brad simpson | ✓

fifty eight

I grip my dad's hand as his arm links around mine, my heart beating so hard that I wonder if I'll see it when I look down. I don't get the chance as my eyes are glued on everyone who was staring at me. Oh god, this is it.

There were lily petals on the floor as I walk down the aisle, people crowded on either side of it in their chairs. I don't recognise half of them, so my eyes divert to in front of me. I struggle to walk since I must be wearing heels.

I see a suit, a white one and the man wearing it has beautiful brown locks as they stand at the end of the aisle, a grin on their face. A priest stands behind him with a book of some sort—probably the bible—and it takes me a moment to piece everything together.

Heels, dresses, suits, a priest. This is a wedding and I'm the bride.

I finally recognise the face of the man in the suit and I inhale sharply as my dad passes me on to him. It's Brad. I'm getting married to Brad? What the hell is going on? Am I dreaming?

"You look amazing," Brad says, brushing some hair behind my ear as he smiles down lovingly at me. His hands take mind, holding them gently. His touch is calming to me, and I finally hear the orchestra in the background as it comes to a stop.

I don't reply, I don't know why because I want to. I want to ask how this is all happening right now. Instead, I remain frozen in my place, looking over his flawless features.

"We gather here today," the priest projects his voice loud so that the entire room could hear him. There was at least one hundred people there, I knew. "To celebrate the pairing of Bradley Simpson and Jamie Lopez."

I gulp. This can't be real, it can't be. I'm supposed to be marrying Aiden.

"Brad," The priest continues. I can't tear my frozen gaze off of Brad. "Do you take Jamie as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

"I do" Brad says and he turns to take a diamond ring off of James who grins at me. I'm so confused. "I take this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit."

Brad takes my right hand in his and careful slides the cold ring on my finger. The grin on his face doesn't falter once.

"Jamie," the priest turns to me. "Do you take Brad as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?"

I still can't speak. My body won't move, do as I want. The pause causes a few mutters from the people sat down, and Brad's smile drops from his face.

"Jamie? Are you okay?" Brad asks with concern. My breath hitches in my throat.

I finally turn my head to the audience, spotting familiar faces on the front row. Tristan, Connor, my dad and my mum. My mum shouldn't be here, I wouldn't want her at my wedding.

"Jamie?" Brad gets my attention and I look over to him quickly. "You've got to say your vows."

The frustration building inside of me as I try to figure out what's happening patronises me and taunts me. I felt like screaming, I'm just so confused.

"Do you not love me?" Brad's face changes, his mouth frowning and his eyebrows furrowed. The tears welling up in his eyes don't go unnoticed. "Do you not want to marry me?"

I try to open my mouth and reply. Nothing comes out. I probably look like a fish.

"Is that why you left?" Tears quickly fall down his face, my heart breaks at the sight. I've only seen him cry twice in my life. "Is that why you chose Aiden instead of me? Do you not love me?"

I felt myself shaking, but I just want to assure Brad that I love him. I do, I really do.

+

I'm shaken awake, and I gasp for air, clutching my chest. I try getting my breath back as I glance to my side, Aiden holding my gently.

"Christ, Jamie," he says in relief, letting me lean against his chest. "You had me scared, I thought you were having a heart attack or something."

I close my eyes, my hands moving from my chest and he takes them softly, rubbing over my knuckles.

"You okay?" Aiden asks after I've caught my breath back. I nod, even though I'm not.

"Just a bad dream," I say, pushing some hair behind my ear. "Sorry if I woke you."

"It's fine," he assures me and I open my eyes slowly. "You looked like you were having a panic attack or something, you didn't look great."

I hum in reply, not sure what to say. The dream felt so real, what Brad said really hit where it hurts.

"Wanna talk about it?" He whispers out.

"It's fine," I tell him. "Nothing to worry about. It's just a dream, after all."

I know he wants to press further but he decides not to. Instead he just lets me lean against his chest as he lays down on the bed, his arm around my shoulder.

Knowing that I won't be going to sleep anytime soon, I begin to think about my dream. It was awful, and I wonder how different it would've been if I could've spoken.

I know Aiden's asleep when soft snores escape his lips and I look over to him. His usual, tough exterior is broken down and he looks like a plush teddy as his black hair is messed up at the top of his head. I smile slightly, just how I remembered he used to sleep.

As I feel myself finally dozing off, I hear my phone buzzing on the nightstand. Frowning, I remove myself from Aiden's grasp and pick up my phone. Who would be calling me at this time of night?

I squint my eyes, readjusting to the bright light and I take a double take at the name etched across my screen. I feel my eyes go wide. Brad's calling me.

I glance over to Aiden who's still fast asleep before I quietly walk out of his room, clicking the answer button. I close the door behind me, leaning against it.

"Are you okay?" I breathe out after a moment of silence. I could hear the faint sound of his breath on the other side of the line.

The only possibility of why he might've called me is because something's wrong, since he hates me. My mind flashes to the party, and I think about Frankie. She didn't force him to do anything, did she?

My heart skips a painful beat at the thought. "Brad? You there?"

"Sorry, wrong number," I hear his gravelly voice slur. I frown, has he been drinking?

"Brad—?" Three beeps interrupt me. He's ditched the call, great.

I pull the phone away from my ear and sigh. Although it was nice hearing his voice, I wasn't sure how I felt knowing he's probably had alcohol. He was the most sober person I knew.

I text Connor for the first time since the dinner party where Brad found everything out, asking him to find and look after Brad. I figured the three boys also hate me, but I know that they'll help Brad out, even at my request. Plus, Connor's the most sober one out of the three of them too.

I glance at my lock screen, a picture of Brad and I, before letting out a shaky sigh and wiping away a stray tear.

edited.